There's No Place Like Home
by jjboivin
Summary: What's worse than washing up on unknown grounds? Let me tell you. It's watching your brother get shot and having this mad man steal everything away from you. It's seeing your friends being beaten and tortured, while you stand there hopeless. And maybe, just maybe, you'll escape from there. But no one has ever escaped from hell. Rated M for a reason. AU. Vaas/OC.
1. Prologue

**Yes I'm back:) I've been away and busy with school, but I came back for the summer! I re-read all the reviews for my last fic and went with a "different" version of a far cry fanfic. You'll have to stick with me if you want to know what's different because with only a prologue and one chapter, not a lot can be said:) So leave me some feedback and/or tell me what you'd want to see different in this fic!**

**disclaimer: I do not own Far cry or anything pertaining to far cry. I own my OCs. **

**This is AU as you will see further on. **

Prologue

Vaas watched the ship from his perch on the mountains. Rain ripped at his clothes, tearing at his skin. The walkie-talkie in his hand buzzed, demanding attention. The voice on the other end scratched in the device, not a single word being clearly deciphered. Shrieking wind sizzled in his ear, rain drops blinding his vision. A smirk stretched his lips when he looked up at the grey sky. Only a terrible storm could bring him his favorite present. Only thunder and lightning could splatter blood on his hands once again. Like if they weren't already stained with crimson.

Thunder clasped the air, lightning lighting up the dark waters for a brief moment. The boat collapsed sideways as it hit a rather huge wave, the water engulfing half of the marine structure. Vaas swore he heard the yells of a human, but his ears could be playing games on him. He only wished there was a handful of good merchandise on that boat. He only wished the blood was fresh.

Down in the water, the pirate lord caught sight of bobbing heads. Lightning seared the dark sky, illuminating Vaas' new targets. He laughed out loud, against the rain, debating whether he should just jump in and dig in, or wait and savor the moment. His sadistic side told him he should wait, that the blood would be sweeter if boiled. Vaas didn't fight that idea, it seemed poised itself.

Therefore, as the waves ate away at the new arrivals, the pirate lord packed up the jeep and headed back to base. A new itch had started in his body, growing under his skin like mold. He could feel the irritation scratch at his nerves, pending him to move faster, begging to be soothed. The rain came in harder, making the itch grow, the need heavier. He couldn't wait. He felt like an impatient child at Christmas. He _wanted_ those people, he needed to hear their screams, their pleads. And oh how he would make them scream, make them beg.


	2. Chapter 1

**Hope you like! Give me some feedback!**

Chapter 1: Excalibur

Vaas ducked out of the jeep, his hand firmly gripping his handgun as he marched forward to the gate. The security guards working his compound signaled for the gate to open. As it did, the pirate lord strolled in, careless of the rain soaking him to the bone. He let his hand ease off the gun, returning it to its holster as he headed for the men's dorms.

It had been a while since the island had had new arrivals. New merchandise. For Vaas, it had felt like eternity. He didn't like continuity, for it bored him in its never ending loop of similar events. Fresh blood and meat on the table always pleased him. He could never say no. Not even when Hoyt would send him back to civilization to fetch some good merchandise. Not even when he had to pretend to be at least human to get some college students on a boat. Vaas smiled at the memory of that year, when he had so effortlessly brought back four drunk kids to the island. The fun he and his men had had was priceless. Ever since, the mad man had been out seeking new victims.

That afternoon, when the storm hit and brought a gift for Vaas, the man could not ignore it. He fixed a plan in his head and played it all out. Those people were his and he would get them like he got all of them. But something felt different about this particular group. Something exciting lay in the future screams that would come out of their throats.

"Get up you gang of incompetent fucks!" The pirate lord's yell reverberated through the clammy dorm as grunts and groans welcomed him to the cemented building. He didn't bother to wait like a decent human for his men to clear their foggy minds. "We have a new batch of little shits today!" he continued to roar. "They're on the beach, I estimate seven of them. No one makes a move without my permission. Pass the word, assholes!" and with that, Vaas was heading to the next dorm. He repeated his little charade with all the indecencies he was capable of.

When his men had finally gotten out of bed, Vaas jumped back in his jeep and headed West for the beach. He just hoped that in the hour he was gone, his new pets hadn't scattered around. Looking for them wasn't the problem, no, the little fucks had to runaway all the time.

As the midday sun was slowly descending to evening glow, Vaas and his troop of twenty men drove through the glossy green of Rook Island. They took turns and passed dangerously close to Rakyat villages and outposts, but Vaas was too lost in his new quest to even care.

In fact, Vaas didn't care if he died or not. Death didn't bother him as much as the reflection in the mirror did. Death was almost a safe haven for Vaas, but he never built up the guts to shoot himself in the head. That was the main reason why he always put a gun in his captives' hands, so they could do it for him. However, they never did it, afraid to stain their hands with blood. How stupid and idiotic humans were to Vaas. He saw them as weak and brainless creatures who wouldn't even kill to save their own fucking lives. And here they claimed to be the strongest and fittest creature on Earth, but their offspring wouldn't even hurt a fly. It always made Vaas laugh to see some old man with his young son, the latter not even able to shoot someone to save his old man. What a shame.

Rain on Rook never lasted long. It often started and stopped, only continuing if it started in the night. Therefore, as Vaas neared the beach, the rain let off and he was able to see clearly ahead of him. His only concern was his Mohawk. Rain tended to screw it up. Rain droplets dripped from the canopy of leaves overhead and splattered everywhere from the mud puddles on the ground. The smell of a dying thunderstorm lingered in the air as the warm, lowering sun cooked Vaas' skin.

Vaas jerked the Jeep left and camouflaged it in the leaves, cutting the engine off and hopping out. He ordered his men to do the same and soon, a small group of men with dangerous arsenal were making their way down the rocky incline to the beach. The trees and bushes hid them from the new arrivals, but it didn't deafen them. Vaas made sure they walked as quietly as possible, and as they neared the sandy bottom, he could hear muffled voices and echos. A smile stretched on his lips and he held back a chuckle, stopping his men and signaling them into the trees. They obeyed, a familiar expression on their faces; anticipation. They wanted bloodshed.

Vaas crouched and got closer to the underbrush that faced the beach. Reflected rays danced in his eyes as he headed deeper in the foliage. His eyes caught movement and he went still. Four figures moved on the damp beach, their hair clamped to their necks and they were trying to salvage something from the water. Their arms were wrapped around a rope while they pulled in unison, groans and grunts emanating from their throats. Vaas chuckled, took a tiny step out from his hiding place and stood in the dimming light.

No one noticed him of course, but he made his way towards the four figures. As he approached, he noticed it was three men and a woman, all brunettes. One man was particularly tall, but he was lean and angular; easy to take down. The other two males were not a lot taller than Vaas, who measured no more than 5'9, but was built to stop a train. And the woman was probably around 5'2 with a strong built. Vaas thought maybe an ex-gymnast or swimmer. As the pirate lord neared the group, he noticed the woman was wearing Bermuda shorts with a Guns and Roses tank top, but the kind of tank top you make when you cut the sleeves of a tee. A red bandanna was wrapped around her tiny right wrist and an assortment of leather bracelets hung off her left one.

"Hello, amigos!" Vaas shouted as he still made his way towards them. All four turned with either a curse, a shout of fear or a step back.

"What the hell, dude!" the tall one shouted, clutching the rope and sighing out. The woman was pushed behind one of the men and then she was hidden by three male bodies. Vaas frowned and pouted his lower lip. They were protecting her.

"Who are you?" the tall one shouted again, confidence and fear mingling with the tone of his voice. Vaas chuckled.

"I'm Vaas," he answered. "I live here." He turned to the jungle, motioning the green with his hands. When he turned back, the three men had frowns.

"People live here?" one asked. "You a native or something?"

Vaas shook his head. "Nah, hermano, I just live here." The three men shared a look, but they all seemed to be waiting for the tall one to make a decision. The said tall one bit his lower lip, dark brown eyes strained on Vaas with thought. Finally, he stepped up, making the woman behind his back the least visible.

"Look man," he started, "our boat was hit by a wave during the storm and we washed up here. We have no idea where we are, we have no food and no water. Could you tell us where to get a boat or something? We're on vacation in Bangkok, we just need to get back there."

Vaas chuckled, wiping sweat from his brow with the curve of his wrist. He stepped up closer to the man and looked up. "Listen, _man_," he replied, "there are no boats to get back. You'll need to swim, but with the fucking sharks, I don't think you'll want to dip your white ass in there." The man frowned.

"How are we supposed to get back?" he asked in a struck. Vaas shrugged.

"Well, let me tell you something," Vaas began. "When people come here, it's not often they ever go back home. In fact, it's pretty fucking rare." The man frowned again. Slowly, Vaas reached behind his back to where his gun was tucked between his pants and his back. He pulled it out, smiling at the fear-struck faces of the group. He looked at his weapon, at the men, and back at his gun. Finally, he aimed it at the tall one and laughed. "Get on your knees or I'll shoot you," Vaas ordered. The man was breathing rapidly, eyes wide like a deer caught in headlights. The other two were staring at the gun, slowly backing away. Vaas waved his gun around, stepping back for more range. "I said get on your fucking knees!" he yelled.

That was the signal for his men to come out of hiding. Like ghosts in the evening glow, they marched out of the jungle, AKs in hand. The sun had almost set over the ocean, giving off a orange and purple glow to the atmosphere. As the four of them got on their knees in a line before Vaas, he ordered them to empty their pockets and put their hands on their heads. Vaas' men surrounded them, guns aimed dangerously at their heads. "There's more of them," Vaas said as he picked up wallets and ID cards. "Scatter around and find me these fucks."

Vaas stayed on the beach with ten of his men and his four new hostages. He held up the IDs in order of how they were lined up. "Adams, Peter," he said, looking at the tall man with a raised eyebrow. "Twenty seven." He moved on to the other man. "Colson, Matthew. Twenty-six." The said Matthew cringed when Vaas walked passed him. "White, Jackson. Twenty-six." And finally, he crouched in front of the woman, whose eyes were down in fear. "Adams, Kira, twenty-three."

Vaas got up with a laugh that made the hostages jump. "You hear that boys!" he shouted to his men. "We have hermano and hermana here!" Although Vaas seemed to be enjoying that fact, his men couldn't care less. He received a chorus of acquired grunts that made him roll his eyes. He turned back to his hostages and whistled. "Alright, hermanos," he said crouching in the sand. "Let me tell you something. You tell me where the others are and I won't hurt you. Fair?"

"Never," Peter spat. Vaas was disappointed.

"I thought you were smarter than that," he replied, walking up to Kira. Peter bolted, faster than Vaas thought. It wasn't long until a shot rang and the body of Peter hit the sand, blood already staining the grit.

"Peter!" Kira yelled, getting to her feet. Vaas was quicker, grabbing her around the waist.

"I told you, Peter!" Vaas laughed, watching Peter groan on the sand, his hand clasped around the wound on his right thigh. As Kira continued to struggle in Vaas' arms, the latter set her down and spun her around so he could bore his stare into hers.

She had almond brown eyes with freckles on the bridge of her nose and spreading to her cheeks. Her lips were light pink, the pink you get after coming out of a hot shower. She seemed to have an innocent face, the kind of face that would cry if a dog was shot or a cat was run over by a car. Vaas liked the spark of forced courage in her orbs, it made her eyes less boring. "Listen, hermana," he whispered close to her face. "Cooperate and your hermano stays alive. Do the opposite and we feed him to the sharks, entendido?" She nodded hastily, damp brown locks framing her oval face.

"Th-they're out looking for wood in the jungle," she whispered back, eyes dropping immediately. "They went the way you came from." She sniffed and a tear fell from her eye, rolling off her cheek. Vaas smiled maniacally.

"Thanks, girl," he answered, grabbing her face with his hands. "I'll make sure you get special treatment at the local inn." He laughed as he walked towards the remaining of his men. He called for a walkie-talkie and transferred the information to his patrolling men; beware of three strangers on the island. Vaas knew it wouldn't be long until he'd be having some real fun.


	3. Chapter 2

**So this chapter is short, but it is a first person view into our main character, Kira. You'll get to see her from the inside, and I hope she is what you all wanted. If not, don't despair, someone else is in the picture. This is AU, so there are things in this chapter you will not recognize from the game, that's because my story is AU. It's all part of a plan ;) **

**Annathemermaid: thank you for the kind words:) I'm glad to return your soul, hahaha!**

**Sickmonkey89: hahaha glad to be back with you, faithful friend! GAH, I must go read your fic again! Please continue it, it was so damn good:) But thank you, and I'll be reviewing on yours soon!**

**Xeres Malfoy: Thanks! and no it will not be only Vaas' POV. There will be three POVs in this fic, you'll just have to stick through to figure them out!**

**Anthracite77: here it is!**

**Naurika: if you feel more comfortable reviewing in french, please do so. My first language is french. I'm from Quebec, Canada! But thank you for the kind words. I will try to make it as long as the last story!**

**Enjoy!**

Chapter 2: _Bête Noire_

I would not blame myself for it. It wasn't me who had the stupid idea to go on a boat when a huge storm was coming. That was all Matthew's fault. And now we were kneeling in front of a dozen guns with a mad man strolling in front of us. I had been forced to give up the others' location when Peter was shot in the leg. Just watching him wither in his own blood, groaning in pain, made my stomach lurch and my heart ache. Vaas, I think that was his name, was quicker than me. He threatened me in whispered acrimony and bore his brown/green eyes into mine. To be honest, his eyes scared the living hell out of me. In fact, all of Vaas scared me. Even though he was only roughly around 5'9, he was intimidating and loud, like he wanted all eyes on him.

As I knelt back in the sand, my head heavy and low, I heard voices coming from the jungle. I cringed, wrapping my arms around myself as I slowly looked up, the ocean breeze washing in my hair. But it wasn't Nova, or Sara or Kate, it was another woman. A woman I had never seen before; tall, lean with her silky black hair tied in a tight pony tail, reflective sunglasses, army pants and a white tank top. Strapped over her shoulder was an intimidating gun, something much like the ones you see when your brother plays video games. She strolled towards us, and something in her step screamed confidence and fearlessness. I noticed a knife strapped to her thigh and a belt armed with various arsenal.

"Vaas!" Her voice was thick and accented with something European. I frowned, looking at my brother, who was curled up in a ball on the damp sand. His blood ran in ringlets around his leg and I forced back a gag. "Don't you listen when I talk?" The woman's voice brought all our attention to her.

Vaas frowned comically. "I'm lost, princess," he answered, crossing his arms over his chest. I watched carefully as the woman took off her glasses and took a dangerous step towards Vaas. Her eyes were of a streaking blue, very popping and attention grabbing.

"I told you that if seven strangers wash up on this piece of shit island, that they were mine," she growled, thick lips curling back over sparkling white teeth.

"You never said-" Vaas started to protest.

"I had informed Doug to bring me seven, and here they are," she counter-attacked. There was a silence, until Vaas rose his brow and pointed at the line of us. I quickly looked down, avoiding both their intimidating stares.

"Looks like you can't count, Bo," his voice sneered. I looked up from under my lashes and spotted the said Bo with her eyes on Vaas.

"Looks like your walkie isn't on, Vaas," Bo growled. I winced at the venomous edge to her voice. "I got a call that your boys found three women, so if you don't mind," she said, turning to the line of us, "tag them, treat them, and send them to me as soon as possible."

Vaas groaned and when I looked at him, he was boiling from the inside. I tried not to imagine what such a mad man could do to a human being. I tried not to imagine what he could do to me or the ones I loved. Instead I tried to imagine my escape from this place. What were the things I had to plan? First was to get my brother back in shape, and get everyone with me to cooperate. But no one would listen to me. I was not a leader, my brother was. He could gather a crowd of clueless people and talk them into taking over a country. And I was only a follower, always proud of my brother.

Bo left and vanished in the foliage. When her presence wasn't felt anymore, a rough hand grabbed my bicep and hauled me onto my feet. When I looked up, I saw Vaas' face hovering over mine. His brows were pulled together and his lips were pinched in a tight line. "Get them to the Jeeps," he ordered in a dark, monotone voice. I shivered when his hot breath fanned my neck and his hand squeezed tighter around my arm.

Two men went for my brother, while the rest took care of Matthew and Jackson. I was urged through the sand and into the humid jungle, where the night sky had forced dragonflies to come out and light our way through the green. I could hear Peter's pained groans and silent screams as we marched in silence, and I tried not to cry, not to let my despair get the better of me. It was hard for when Vaas pushed me into the back of the Jeep, I saw Peter's face; white and stony, sweat trickling from his dark hair. Jackson was hauled into the same Jeep as me, his body pressed against mine so that two of Vaas' men could fit with us too.

"Are you hurt?" Jack whispered in my ear. I shook my head, words unable to pass through the lump in my throat. "It's going to be fine, we'll get out of here."

"Quiet back there!" Vaas yelled from the driver's seat as he started the engine and reversed out of the jungle and onto the dirt path.

I tried to find comfort in the familiarity of Jackson's shape and warmth, but he was trembling and his breath was coming out in wretched puffs. When I looked up, his eyes were the color of charcoal and they were wide, like a deer caught in headlights. His parched lips trembled, his teeth chattering despite the humid weather. He was of no comfort to me. I would have preferred my brother's company, but he was in the jeep behind me with Matt. I could see the driver through the shoulders of the men in our jeep. He was of Hispanic origin with a red bandanna around his neck and pitch black sunglasses. I realized with alarmed precaution, that all the men wore red tank tops. I thought maybe a sect, but sects wore dresses and suits.

My head hit the side of the jeep as the vehicle hit a pretty nasty pothole. I winced, checking with my hand if there was any blood. Jack's eyes found mine and I nodded, giving him the least bit less to worry about. He nodded back and went back to looking at the island that zoomed by us.

Just as we emerged from a very dense jungle and onto another dirt path, a river, emptying into the ocean, glistened before my eyes. The smell of salt and marine life tickled my nostrils and I couldn't help but feel calm. The sound of seagulls and waves crashing onto rocks rocked me like a lullaby. The rogue swaying of the car served as my pram, despite the smell of sweat, death and something rotten. I couldn't design a comfortable and safe world inside my head, even with my eyes closed, because Jack's trembling and the sound of the jeep's motor brought me back to reality. It opened the curtain to something bloody and horrific, and it made my heart race. It scared me.

Just as I was beginning to get used to the view of the river, the sight of jungle leaves and green underbrush blocked my view from the only thing keeping me from despairing. I turned to look ahead, Vaas' shoulder obscuring half the view of the upcoming village. I could see wooden, rundown huts, crates, bone fire arrangements, bamboo cages, and a lot of men in red tanks with AKs in their hands. I gulped down my fear, curling into a ball and returning my eyes to the trees. It wasn't long until we passed the village and we were back onto the infinite dirt path.

**Hope you enjoyed! You can leave some feedback and tell me about Kira, because to be honest I'm a bit uncertain of her. She's kinda wishy washy, but she's got her secrets, don't you worry! **

**Thank you again to those who reviewed, favorited and followed!**


	4. Chapter 3

**Here:) first three chapters done. The first three were stricktly for introducing the 3 POVs and the 3 main characters. So, in order, it will always be Vaas's POV, then Kira's, then Bo's. Hope you like Bo ;)**

**Annathemermaid: no problem!:)**

**Xeres Malfoy: J'aime ton enthousiasme pour Bo! Oui, une femme qui commande Vaas va surement lui tomber sur les nerfs! Merci!**

**Sickmonkey89: Hahaha, here is the update!**

**Anthracite77: Alors ce chapitre est pour toi! C'est tout sur Bo :) **

Chapter 3: Tag

Many stories circled around about how Bo came to have the spot she had on the island; or how high she came to climb on Rook's hierarchical ladder. Some said she was related to Hoyt, being that she was the only woman to occupy such rankings on the island. Others said she was Hoyt's boss in disguise, being that he never as much as insulted her in public like he did to everyone he was associated with. However, the most weird of stories was that she could of been an ex-pirate; a member of Hoyt's beginner crew, and that she was given a special place among the ever growing drug cartel and human trafficking ring. Given that there were only women in Hoyt's mercenaries, many believed Bo had been a mercenary and simply asked to be promoted.

But none knew the real reason. All the stories revolving around her apparition on the island were just that; stories. Never once had someone heard the true story behind Bo's escalation to supremacy. She was still under Hoyt, despite others' beliefs, and she still respected the rules of Rook (being that there were little). No one knew she was a black belt in taekwondo and karate, and that she was a specialist in archery. No one knew the past of contract killing and overseas contracts. It was rare that someone would see Bo mad to a point where her hidden skills would show. Bo was an enigma to all, especially Vaas.

He had tried for a long time to coax her into telling him about her life. But she was all but opened. Her walls were tough and high. The past of the young woman was locked away safely, and none, even Vaas, knew enough to be able to formulate a life map of her. Only Hoyt really knew how Bo came to Rook.

Bo, being Vaas' "partner" for the North Islands, had to make profit. She, like the pirate lord, ordered in captives and sold them for money so she could buy herself things, extend her ever growing secret cartel, and supply human buyers with what they wanted. She had her own thing going on, being that Hoyt knew about it. He was fine with her having her own little drug cartel and human ring, given that a third of her profits went to him. Bo's drug cartel blossomed better than Hoyt ever thought. She used original drugs that she procured from Dr. Earnhardt. They were drugs made using Rook's fauna. People were willing to buy for surprisingly high prices.

Hoyt was never jealous of her independent little company, given that she participated in his. Officially, she was Vaas' partner and was _supposed_ to look over the hostages and the North Island. However, she was always out searching for new plants, hunting, and/or scuba diving. Rarely had Vaas' men seen Bo around long enough for a chat. Not all men respected Bo as being a leader of superiority. Her authority meant nothing to a good portion of the pirates. However, as much as she had haters, she had supporters. Vaas' close companions were more keen on accepting her in the ranks. She knew she was in a man's world after all, but she was a hell of a lot better at it than most of the pirates.

Bo waited in her shanty for her hostages to be dropped off in the cages alongside her living quarters. She had her Dell laptop poised on her lap, dark eyebrows knitted together in concentration. Her lips were pinched in a tight line, index finger hastily clicking through her e-mails and documents. She had a lot to organize before sending the hostages' information to her buyers. They weren't even tagged yet, which meant their names and information weren't even in her computer. She hesitated on calling Vaas through her walkie, but the bastard never had his open, so she opted for patience.

When the sound of a couple of jeeps rolled up through the thick foliage separating her from the road, the brunette jumped to her feet and stormed out the door. She marched through the short path to Vaas' compound and made sure his jeep in particular stopped in front of her.

"Why did you take so bloody long!?" she yelled over the sound of the engine. Vaas just smirked and hopped out, ordering his men to take out the hostages.

"Took a couple detours to observe the land, milady," he chuckled, crossing his arms and walking her way.

"You bloody idiot!" she screamed. Her irritation seemed to scare the brunette captive, who whimpered silently. Bo ignored her. "They aren't even tagged yet!"

"Relax, hermana," Vaas cooed. "We got this."

Bo groaned, marched up to the brunette woman and wrenched her out of the pirate's grasp. She yelled as soon as she was taken away from her friends. "I'll do it myself!" Bo shouted at Vaas. Then she shook the woman in her grasp to quiet her down. "Shut it!"

"Woah, girlie, be careful with that one," Vaas laughed.

"Bring the rest to my cages once they're tagged," Bo grumbled to him, heading towards her shanty with the squealing captive hanging from her hand. She was so small and light, barely weighing 130 lbs. She struggled, and despite her petite form, she was quite strong.

"Please," she cried silently, stumbling along with Bo. "Please don't kill me."

"I won't," Bo answered sternly. The captive didn't deter, struggling even harder. Bo got annoyed, taking a rope from her pants and pushing the woman roughly in front of her.

"Please I-" the captive started, but she was gagged with a damp cloth and a rope was tied roughly around her neck. Bo used the lengthy rope as a leash for the captive brunette and led her through the jungle.

"I will need you to cooperate," Bo said, ignoring the whimpers and cries from the girl. "If you don't, I will hurt you. Am I being clear?" The girl nodded through tears and whimpers.

Bo brought the girl to her shanty, sitting her down on a metal pliable chair and securing her hands to the chair with handcuffs. Then she went to her computer and opened up her documents of classification of hostages. She tapped on her keyboard a couple times, the silence in the room heavy and thick. "Name," Bo ordered, before realizing the girl was gagged.

"Kira," she shrilled out after being freed.

"Age."

"Twenty-three."

Bo typed ferociously on her laptop all the physical information obvious to the eye. "Are you ill?"

"No."

"Do you take any prescription medication?"

"No."

"Are you pregnant?"

"No."

"Do your parents have any hereditary illnesses?"

"No."

"Weight."

"125 lbs." Bo finished up the document, sending it to Hoyt and all her usual buyers of women the age of Kira.

"I have a first aid kit," Bo declared, placing the closed laptop on a nearby desk. "Do you need any wounds treated?"

Kira took a moment to look herself over and finally shook her head. Bo nodded, getting to her feet and unlocking the captive's handcuffs. The latter seemed even more scared as Bo walked her outside to the cages lounging the shanty. As Bo threw the girl inside one of them, she heard her walkie buzzing. "Bo!" It was Vaas. "We got them all tagged. Sending them your way!"

Bo didn't feel the need to respond, tucking the device in her belt and tying the cage shut. "What will become of us?" Kira asked, grabbing the bamboo with her hands. Bo simply looked in the other direction and walked away.


	5. Chapter 4

**I really hope you like this chapter :) not a lot of action, but enough to leave you thinking;) **

**Anthracite77: Haha, j'espère que tu l'aimeras dans ce chapitre! Et pour ta dernière question, tu auras ta reponse bientôt!**

**Xeres Malfoy: Tu as très raison! Bo n'est pas une brûte, c'est pour cela qu'elle va avoir de la difficultée dans le future de cette histoire. Elle est, en effet, capable de tuer un homme avec ses mains nues, mais elle ne torture pas les gens comme le fait Vaas. Merci pour ton review!**

Chapter 4: Lackadaisical

What bothered Vaas the most was the fact that he was obligated to listen to a woman. It itched him to the deepest of his soul, if he even had one. The itch was so powerful that it turned into respected annoyance. No one could make Vaas buckle except for two individuals; Hoyt and Bo. The latter could tear his shanty apart in rude boredom, and Vaas would still be forbidden to plunge a knife in the cavity of her chest. His extreme obedience to the woman led other pirates to think he was becoming weaker as the years passed. Not that Vaas was getting old, he was still in his twenties, three years from hatching into his thirties. However, it didn't deter him. He was still at his full capacities whether it be mentally or physically. Aging wasn't a phobia of Vaas, but it was going to be a problem later on. Could he still do this well into his fifties? He thought about Hoyt and decided he'd never have any other life other than this; drugs and human slavery.

Yet the idea of seeing something else than white fluff and crimson ringlets gave him shivers of anticipation, like the outside world was calling out to him. He couldn't tame the imaginative pleas in the remaining corners of his sanity that begged him to travel and see what else lay on the other side of the ocean. Nonetheless, he was a savage killer and a merciless monster. He wouldn't be able to live among rules and limits, the kinds that prevented him from cutting up flesh and soaking his hands in blood. All this was too much to think about, especially when tipsy.

Vaas didn't go to local bars often. He preferred his beers alone in his shanty, but being that he was in his compound, the bar sign had been an inviting idea ever since he set foot onto the dirt path. The pirate lord hadn't wasted any time in barging in and claiming a seat on a broken stool. A warm, foaming beer had been placed in front of him, coins given to the bartender. A couple swings of the intoxicating beverage and he was ordering more and more, emptying his pockets as he went. Next came some hard core liquor and finally, the mad man sat on a lounge with a bottle of Jack Daniel's in his right hand, a cigar in the other.

That is when Bo stepped into the dimly lit building, the reddish glow reflecting on her tanned skin. The absence of her signature reflective sunglasses led Vaas to know night had fallen and he had spent too much time with alcohol. Yet, despite his ordered self telling him to go to bed, he couldn't help but look at the woman as she waltzed to the bar and ordered a cold beer. Vaas watched as she took a swing of the liquor and reached in the pocket of her trousers to retrieve a cellphone. He continued to observe her, and concluded the glow of the bar was so fitting to her, she could be a frame on the wall and no one would notice her.

Her left arm was stretched along the bar while her right hand held the cellular device. Her brows knitted in confusion as her thumb flicked across the text messages and e-mails. "Care to give a man company?" Vaas drawled from across the bar. He waited, with a patient and intoxicated smile, for the woman to look up and find him. She took her damn time doing so, closing the cellphone and taking a resentful swing of her beer.

By that time, which Vaas estimated being around midnight, the bar had only three acolytes; Vaas, Bo and a drunken pirate. The woman couldn't careless if any eyes were watching from the outside, and so did the pirate lord. He sat upright when the brunette pirate sauntered his way and confidently straddled his lap, beer still in her right hand. "And why would I give my time to a man who wasted mine today?" she teased with a quirked brow and a swing of her beer.

Vaas, used to these baring games, bared his teeth in a mischievous smile and shrugged. Another complicated thing with Vaas was, despite the annoyance he had with obeying Bo, he loved to fuck her senseless whenever she desired. "Because I'm the best," he retorted, drunken voice whispering by her face. Bo huffed.

"Are you trying to imply that you are the best shag I've ever had?" she asked mockingly, cocking her head to the side. Vaas threw his cigar out in the open and set his free hand on the woman's hip, cupping his thumb in the hook of her trousers.

"I love it when you use terms like that," he whispered huskily, leaning his face in. She knew just why, but she wasn't about to give in just yet.

"I'm sorry to disappoint you Vaas," she said, hands gripping the lounge each side of his head, "but I've had better shags than you." His mouth opened in a disbelieved O as he leaned back and frowned.

"How you are hurtful, princess," he answered in a deliberate form of hurt. Bo ignored it, rolling her eyes in the way that made Vaas very angry. He withdrew his hand from her hip to grip the sharp edge of her chin. "I hate it when you pretend like I don't have an effect on you," he practically growled in her face, teeth bared menacingly. Bo huffed, slapping his hand away.

"Is this your form of pathetic foreplay?" she taunted, hand wrapped around his thick wrist. He squinted his eyes, raising a brow in question. "Because if it is," she continued, leaning in dangerously close, "I'm not up for it tonight."

"Oh, come on, princess!" Vaas cooed as the brunette un-straddled his lap and walked away from him. "We were just getting started!"

"Twat," she mumbled audibly loud for Vaas to hear before vanishing out the door.

Vaas sighed loudly, using his hand to relieve the tightness in his pants from the constraint of his trousers. "Fucking woman," he grumbled, stumbling to his feet.

The countless times Vaas had had Bo for the night had left him thirsty for more every time. Especially because she was a free woman with every right to slice his throat if he as much as smiled the wrong way at her. Although she let him fuck her bent over a table whenever she waltzed into his shanty and demanded attention. Moreover, her attitude towards him never as much as altered after their sexcapades. She was always the same woman, whether it be a second after her release, or a month without the touch of a man. She was so independent it maddened the pirate lord. Never had he seen her yearning for him, or begging at his door. It was she whom decided when it happened, or when it didn't, like that night at the bar.

The pirate lord swayed out of the bar, the bottle of liquor still in his hand. He found himself chasing after the woman, who was slowly walking to her own shanty in the security of the jungle. The lush midnight color of her hair, now in a loose mop around her shoulders, sparkled in the light glow of the dragonflies' gleam. If he followed her long enough, he knew she'd accept him in her shanty, maybe for a sympathy fuck.

He knew she heard him behind her, but she pretended like she had done countless other nights. Her fingers tapped away on her cellphone as she slithered through the underbrush of the jungle. Her figure served as a guide through the darkening jungle. The intoxicated liquor he had drank coursed through his veins and was the reason for his sidestepping and wobbling through the green. As much as it bothered the brunette before him, it didn't stop her from allowing the drunken pirate lord to follow her.

When they emerged in the small clearing that adorned the shanty of the brunette, Vaas caught a glimpse of a moving figure in one of the cages that lounged the wooden structure. He stepped closer, brows pulled together in confusion. The milky white face of the woman captive he'd seen earlier greeted him in the pitch darkness of the jungle. The pirate lord put his index to his lips and smirked at the petrified brunette. "Don't tell or I'll slit your throat," he whispered drunkenly.

He followed Bo into her shanty and loudly swung the door shut, the sound reverberating into the jungle, scaring away jungle life. He didn't hesitate in commanding her body, the desk being the uncomfortable structure serving as their foundation. With all the women Vaas had bedded, none had the hostility of Bo. If he as much as fucked her the wrong way, he would be sitting on his ass in the dirt outside of her shanty. She didn't as much as care if she didn't have release, but if she had it, it had to be in the way she wanted. And what was even more torturous for Vaas at some times was that she didn't let him come and she was ordering him out. Yet, he still went to her night after night, not caring if he'd be crawling back in the dirt, or comfortably and satisfyingly sprawled on her bed. That night it happened to be the latter.

**I think we get a pretty good view of Bo's and Vaas' relationship in this chapter. **

**Thanks to all who reviewed, followed and favorite. See ya!**


	6. Chapter 5

**Oh hey, a Kira chapter! Hahaha, for all those wondering, we aren't far enough in the story to know all the secrets and juicy stuffs. But believe me, after this chapter, the "essence" of the story really begins. **

**Anthracite77: Haha, j'ai bien pensée que ça te surprenderais! J'espère que tu as aimé!**

**Sickmonkey89: I'm really glad you like Bo, she's kind of my little pride at the moment. There's so much more to her and I can't wait for you to know it! Thanks for the review!**

**Xeres Malfoy: Je suis ravie que la relation entre Bo et Vaas te plait! Et le rôle de Kira sera révélé plus tard, et j'ai si hâte que vous soyez au courant. L'histoire que j'ai pour vous sera trop top! Merci du feed back!**

Chapter 5: Silent Insanity

I was never afraid of the dark. As a child, I could go to bed without any night lamp and not feel the bloodcurdling fear my brother did. It was like I had a superpower; a deranged form of childish pride that told me I was superior to my brother because he wet his bed every night implying a monster was in the closet. Not that I was a deranged child, but I had my moments when my brother seemed to steal the show with his impressive sport accomplishments and I was just standing in the bleachers. If I could shine brighter than my sibling, trust me, I'd take the opportunity.

Yet, here on this island, night became a time that I dreaded to face. It crept up on me, like it was curling its rigid, black fingers around my eyes and clawing them into black void. I felt pursued by the darkness with the way the sun disappeared beyond the trees and left behind a terrorizing and approaching dusk. I felt imprisoned even more by the darkness and the blank state the world before my eyes took. It's like, even despite the bamboo cage I was in, the night found a way to make my captivity even more omnipresent. It's like the whispers of wind and the noises of wild life mocked me in their freedom. The rigorous beating of my heart never ceased to remind me of the place I was in, the danger I was facing, the ignorance I bathed in. My fear bled into some sort of insanity that doubled over during the night.

And do not kid yourself in thinking I felt safe when the sun rose on the horizon. This island was danger floating in the middle of the ocean. Sunrise was the rise of the devils and the demons roaming the paths, the gun shots living in the air, and the constant yells that seemed to echo infinitely. My brain was soaked with adrenaline, my mouth constantly clenched, and my legs ready to pounce. The dirt lived on my skin like fear lived in my eyes. The perpetual trembling of my body became a habit, and I even forgot what it was like _not _to tremble.

Nonetheless, I had one thing that kept me going day after day. Peter.

I had been impressed that his wound had been well cleaned and bandaged. Despite the lack of antibiotics, Peter was healing and recovering. He wasn't so pale and sick-looking anymore. He slept less and by the way he moved around in the cage, he was readying his body for something. And if that something was escape, he was far more insane that I was.

Kate and Nova had been locked in with us, but the absence of Sara was what kept us all on edge. Her disappearance was unnerving and rose many questions. Was she dead? Yet our questions remained unanswered for the red tank tops would never as much as utter a word to us. Additionally, the mysterious Bo character wouldn't even glance at us or answer our pleas. It was like we didn't exist, like we were decoration living in numb bodies with loud and conscious minds.

There was a morning when I was the only one awake. My eyes were red and itchy from crying and pleading the dark for pity. My body lay in the cool dirt, my hands clutching the earth. My corpse demanded sleep, but I refused. The nightmares, the screams; they'd all come back.

"Kira Adams?" My name being called out was not even a stimulant to lift me up. The cage had to be unlocked, black boots had to march up to my eyes, and a harsh slap had to be aimed at my face.

"Kira Adams, right?" I looked up, the sun blinding me. The harsh rays made fresh tears sprout in my eyes. I didn't trust my voice, so I nodded. "Get up, come with me." I groaned, using my weak hands to support the upper half of my body. However I was too weak, the lack of sleep affecting my body. A rough hand gripped my bicep, and through the blinding rays of the sun, I caught the sight of Bo.

She half dragged, half walked me out of my cage, using my weak and bruised arm as a rope. I felt withered and tampered with, like my lack of sleep had made my body feel beaten and violated. My bones ached and every time I tried to take a step, I could feel my spinal bones creak against each other, like the cushions that were supposed to be between them had vanished.

Bo wasn't gentle either. She dragged me across the dirt path, ignoring the faint cries of Peter. When I could look at her, I saw cornrows were braided on the left side of her hair and the other side was wavy, cascading down her back in a lush midnight wave. Her eyes were covered with her sunglasses, and she wore a black tank top and army trousers.

I was startled by the sound of village life; battering, chatting, chuckling and loud motors. My eyes struggled to stay open, beating against the heaviness of sleep and the harsh light of the sun. If only I could have walked correctly, without my body wavering and affecting my vision, I could have seen what was around me. Yet the island never ceased to let my ears be my guide. Screams of horrific octaves reached my eardrums and filled my meddled brain. I winced, feeling my shoulders sag as Bo was merciless in the way she carried me. I could hear pleas and cries of desperate humans, voices suffused to the brink with fear and devastation. It shattered me from the inside even more and I hated Bo for bringing me to that place, to the places where the screams were louder. I wanted to go back to my cage. At least there the screams were faint and I could mistake them for being figments of my imagination. However in this place, where the dirt ground felt like dried blood under my shoes, those screams could not be mistaken for dreams. They were reality, and the reality of this place, this hell hole, devastated me.

The soles of my feet found wooden floorboards and the sound of bustling pirate life was muffled by the shadows of cement walls. In the refreshing shadows, my eyes could finally creak open and glimpse at the concrete walls and wooden floor. I was in some kind of living quarter, big enough to bed two or three people. Bo dragged me in front of two beds, an open door that led to a bathroom and then, when she stopped, she plopped my body down on something that felt very much like carpet.

My trembling fingers curled in the fabric and I stared at the embedding, my eyes trying to focus on the colorful patterns in front of them. "What's this?" The sound of a prominent male voice trickled up to my ears as booted feet skidded the wooden floor. I bit my lip, my eyes watering as the boots approached me. All I could see was the fucking carpet.

"I have more merchandise coming in today," Bo answered the mysterious voice, "and I needed more place in my cages so I brought you her."

I fell on my forearms, the weight of my body being too much to bear. The trembling of my body reverberated on the wood under the carpet and I swear I heard the dust complain, but I was going nuts.

"I'm a babysitter now?"

I almost laughed.

"No." I swear, when Bo growls, it sounds very much like a bear. "You don't need to comfort her or the such. Just keep her alive until she's been bought."

I shivered despite the scorching heat. In the past three days, I heard the word "sold" more than I heard my own heartbeat.

"I can't watch over her, Bo!" His voice was loud and if I could have talked, I would have told him to shut it. "I'm not always here!"

"Tie her up you bloody twat," was the quite hilarious response of Bo. "Lock your door and you'll be sure that she won't act out."

There was a moment of utter silence where I thought the world had sunk into oblivion. The silence was so heavy and taunting that it influenced the little vision I had into some sort of coma-like state. Yet, when I thought I had really dreamed it all, the voice of that man came back.

"Alright," it said hesitantly. "How long will she be here?"

"I haven't the slightest idea, Hunter."

I grimaced. What kind of name was that for a pirate? Talk about humor on all kinds of levels.

"It better not be long," the said Hunter replied through what appeared to be clenched teeth.

A sigh echoed above me and the sound of boots retreated. I was left to the silence and the mystery man; Hunter. I didn't even know if he was there anymore, for the silence and tugging darkness blended his presence in my mind with all the other noises only I could hear. I thought a minute or two passed, but it appeared to be more for when I reopened my eyes, I was staring out a window where the sun had almost set. However, the silence and the lack of screams was so inviting that I couldn't tame the wild hunger to sleep, and so I let my mind wander to the imaginative corners it reserved only for my closed lids.

I think I saw my brother in my dreams, but my dreams had altered since I arrived on the island. Outside of my dreams, I think I felt a needle push through my flesh and release intoxicating liquid into my veins. I thanked whoever drugged me for the trembling ceased and my bones felt appealingly still for once.

* * *

What woke me up was the terrifying feeling of a mattress under me.

I sat up abruptly, feeling resistance against my right wrist. When my eyes found the glistening handcuffs linking me to the bed post, I gasped. I was suddenly alert, all my senses suffused to the brink, my tendrils blaring. I scanned the room I was in; concrete walls, a bed facing mine and a one beside, a closed door to my right and two tables with papers peppered onto them in the center. A window left of me caught my attention, the dusty glow to the air leading me to think the sun was about to rise. When I looked down at the scrawny bed sheets sprawled over my legs, I noticed the strange and itchy material they were made of. The green color suggested army provided.

A noise from the closed door made my head jerk to it. Meanwhile, I noticed the colorful patterned carpet sitting in the middle of the room, something strangely familiar to it. I frowned, trying to keep my breathing steady and the fear influxes manageable. The door opened with a squeaking, ear piercing sound and a dark figure walked out, almost hesitantly. I winced when he turned and, by the way his facial structure was formed, figured he was American.

He wore a black t-shirt that was tight enough to show that he was not to be messed with. What appeared to be dog tags were slung from his neck and dove into the collar of his tee. Black trousers adorned his long legs and a belt armed with various arsenal such as a pistol, two knives and a baton was tied around his hips. Black track boots were loosely tied to his feet and I noticed another knife attached to his right ankle. His annoyed grunt made my eyes snap up to him, where the glinting brown of his eyes shone straight through me. His hair, cut short and messily taken care of, appeared to be recently washed; sticking up in all places and wet at the tips. A stubble of a beard, like he hadn't shaven in a couple days, embellished his chin and jaw line. He was tall, roughly reaching the six foot, with cut out jaw muscles and a torso that couldn't be run down by a train. Tattoos garnished his forearms and disappeared under the sleeve of his tee, leaving more to the curiosity of the eye. His eyes found mine and the look of smugness suggested annoyance and disgust.

"Peter," I croaked, the effort making my throat ache. I needed water. The guy frowned.

"What?" he asked, crossing to the table farthest from me.

"My brother," I croaked again, the aching in my throat being too much for me to speak more.

"Whatever," he waved me off with his large hand, turning his back to me.

"Where is my brother?" I demanded more clearly, breathing in hard. The guy, Hunter I presumed, turned his face to the side.

"I don't know," he answered in a grunt. I sighed desperately.

Did they put me in here so they could kill my brother? I shook my head violently. Tears sprouted in my eyes and doubled over onto my cheeks, blurring my vision. Were they torturing him now? I sobbed, curling into myself, my knees propped against my chest. Was he suffering, pleading for me to help him? The tears fell, hot and heavy, and dropped onto the itchy sheets. I pulled at my handcuffs, feeling the metal bite sourly into my flesh. They weren't allowed to hurt him. They had already shot him for fucking sake!

My crying turned to anger and the boiling tears fell even harder as I pulled with all my might against my handcuffs. Groans fell from my lips ferociously as I used my left hand to try and pry the damn metal from my wrist. "Peter." His name fell from my lips multiple times as I found myself kneeling in the bed, my arms pulling at the metal. I needed to find Peter, to tell him it was all going to be alright. I growled against the metal, my tears blinding me completely.

"Hey!" The angered shout of my captor didn't deter me as I continued to vehemently pull the handcuffs off. "The fuck are you trying to do!?" I felt rough and large hands on my shoulders, pushing me into the bed.

"Let me go!"

I kicked and punched despite my deterred vision. Hunter held me down, using his impressive weight to crush me. He fumbled with something in his pocket and came out with a glistening object. I struggled against him.

I needed to find Peter.

Coolness was pressed against the softness in the crease of my elbow, pressed so hard it turned into pinching. "Stop it," I growled, twitching my arm desperately, but Hunter held it steady with only one of his hands. I felt the needle pierce the small barrier of skin, felt the oozing drug fill my veins. It was thick and I felt like I was getting a vaccine.

My body was almost instantly numb, heavy and drowsy. My tear-filled eyes saw nothing but shadows and figures, all melting and merging into one big blob of color. The warmth that was Hunter's hand on my arm left, and so did the shadow that was his body. What followed his departure was the sound of chains and silence.

**Thank yous to peeps who followed, favorited and especially those who reviewed. I love reading the feedback, it's so constructive. Keep it coming!**


	7. Chapter 6

**Hope you like. I think this chapter was what had me at it for so long. It took quite some time to get it right :D**

**Anthracite77: Haha, je suis contente que tu aimes Hunter ;)**

**Xeres Malfoy: Leurs rôles seront révélés plus tard dans l'histoire. Je pense que tu auras un peu d'information sur leurs rôles dans ce chapitre! Merci!**

**Sickmonkey89: Hahaha glad you liked my stud ;) and yes, you and tall guys with tattoos :D Hehehe, glad you liked and here's a chapter for you! Hope there's enough Hunter in this for you!**

Chapter 6: Anathema

Bo woke up to the startling sound of a human screaming. Not that on Rook you had pleasant awakenings, but this one was particularly loud and close. The brunette pirate looked to the wall on the opposite side of her shanty and frowned, uncovering her body from the sheets and slipping out of her cot. Her bare feet found the dusty wooden floorboards as a yawn rippled through her lungs. Another yell made her left brow twitch.

"What the fuck," she mumbled, leaning across her desk to grab her nine mil. She checked the magazine and tucked it in the waistband of her pajama shorts, all the while keeping an eye on the door. The woman wasn't easily scared, but when a stranger was screaming on the other side of her shanty, she could bring up many reasons to fear for her life.

She opened the door to the outside, revealing a dusky upcoming dawn, birds chirping lightly beyond the greenery of the jungle. The sun hadn't made its apparition yet, however the rays laid beyond the trees and threatened to clear up the skies. Bo, seemingly blind to the desperate human being beside her, stepped out of her door and onto the mushy dirt. The soil was cool from the night, making shivers race up on the woman's flesh. A sweet wind patted her hair and skin, and for a moment it was peaceful.

"Where is she!?"

Bo turned to face the hoarse voice. In the cage, Peter Adams was on his knees, hands gripping the bamboo. Dirt caked his face and hair, his nails grimy with the soil. The desperation written on his face didn't deter the smugness on the woman's features, but only proved to increase it. What bothered Bo the most was the hostages who believed that a simple act of bravery bought them a ticket out of their misery. Yet Bo had never seen a captive walk out of Rook without being tied to a leash leading to a boat, or in a garbage bag, chopped up in pieces.

"Where is she!?"

Peter Adams was a tough man; Bo could tell. To the naked eye, the young man was tenacious and wouldn't give up without a fight. Nonetheless, when he had been shot, his vigorous resilience had deterred to an extreme low, leading Bo to believe the man was nothing more than a good visual show.

"Where's who?" Bo grumbled, wiping the sleep from her eyes. Peter stirred in his cage, the heaviness in his breathing proof of his fear.

"My sister," he answered quite clearly. Bo quirked a brow and looked up at the dawn sky, biting her lip in thought.

"Who?" she repeated, not bothering with making eye contact.

"My sister!" Peter barked. "Kira Adams. Not tall, brown hair-"

"Oh yes," Bo interrupted, bringing a thoughtful index finger to her mouth. "Yes."

There was a moment of silence in which Bo played carelessly with Peter. He was an adamant little one; not afraid to defy authority. But he was nothing but a show, which could mean he was easy to break. "She was moved yesterday morning." Bo couldn't care less, turning on her heals and begging him to shut up for he had bothered her sleep.

"I know, but where!?" he called after her. Bo stopped in her tracks, groan caught midway in her throat. She sighed through her nose, wielding all her anger away for a split second.

"Somewhere else," she spat back.

"Please!" he continued to persist. Bo ignored him and walked back into her shanty. Sleep had completely left her groggy mind and was replaced with peaceful awareness. Peter's pleas turned into silent cries until he finally settled.

Bo wasn't one to pity. Her past in drug cartels and human rings had basically desensitized her to the cryings and pleadings of human beings. Despite the fact that Bo is part of the race of humans, she was never one to feel with an open heart for those who put themselves in shit. Not only would they annoy and disgust her, but Bo Childs could not support those who wanted, _needed_ pity from others to survive. The pirate woman had lived long enough to understand that if you were in shit, _you_ got yourself out of it. Using the help of others only put you in debt to them, and having debts was never a good thing. The ones to which you were indebted to could demand their pay anytime.

The brunette clothed herself in a simple white tank top, trousers a bit loose for her and track boots. She tied her hair in a braid, brushed her teeth and armed herself with a gun. During her toiletries, the sun had had time to rise and illuminate the island, not to mention cook it to high temperatures. Bo wandered out into the sun, careless of the crying and pleading going on in the cages beside her shanty. She didn't even spare a glance towards them.

Arriving in the compound, the pirate woman found herself walking towards Hunter's sleeping quarters. The building stood against the sun, the hot rays cooking the concrete. Hunter's place wasn't much. It was a one floor building with a bathroom, three beds, a drawer and that awful carpet of his. Bo always thought it was Chinese, but Hunter clarified her, stating it was Indian.

Knocking on the wooden door, the brunette turned to look at the pirates beginning to stir in the compound. Many were sleepy, groggy minds pushing them to sit by a crate and munch on some biscuits or leftover chicken. Many red tank tops milled around the door, exchanging duties and discussing quarters. If life on Rook wasn't filled with paperwork, screaming hostages and the occasional gunshots, life was boring. There wasn't much to do on an island populated with only natives, drug dealers and tigers. Bo wasn't the one to swim with a shark, or hunt down a deer, or take the four wheelers out in the sand pits. She was more the one to get her job done, and once it was; relax with a cold beer and nothing else. Maybe go out by the beach and endure the hot sun. Everything was better than spending time with those brainless, bloodthirsty, sex-deprived pirates. If nothing else, the brunette liked to spend her free time better with the mercenaries. After all, she once was one of them.

"What is it?" The grumble of an awoken Hunter brought Bo out of her thoughts. She looked up to find his impressive structure looming over her, his eyes half closed and his brown hair tousled by the pillow.

"Sorry to wake you," the brunette started formerly, "but I'm here to check on my hostage." Hunter groaned and quirked a brow. He was obviously pissed off about the early awakening.

He turned and that is when Bo noticed he was lacking a shirt. If he wasn't so much younger than her (or if she wasn't so much older than him), she would have surely pounced on him and did what she did to Vaas every night. Hunter wasn't a bad looking guy with fit muscles and perfect outlines. Not to mention the intriguing tattoos that snaked up his arms and around his shoulders. He was sexy in all the ways a woman wanted; mysterious, protective of his stuff, territorial, and had slight anger issues. Yet Bo was thirty years old, and little Hunter was no less than twenty four. One could agree the age difference was not a lot when you looked at it a sexual way, but to Bo, the difference was enough. Six years, compared to three with Vaas. At least, the brunette could live with herself after she spent a night with the pirate king.

"And this calls for you to wake me up at such hours, princess?" he yawned, walking to where his black tee was thrown on the floor. Bo shrugged and forgot to answer him. He put on his shirt, abdominal muscles stretching as he did. Bo grunted internally and searched for her property.

The said hostage was fast asleep on a bed, the covers covering half of her body. Her brown locks were in a mess around her pale face, covering the pillow in dark matter. In the crease of her elbow, a small red spot adorned the fragile flesh, which made Bo frown. "What the bloody hell is this?" she asked, making her way to the asleep captive and gripping her arm. Surprisingly, Kira didn't wake.

"I gave her a sedative," was the smug response of Hunter from the bathroom. Bo heard the water flowing from the shower and grunted, examining the wound on the girl's flesh.

"Why did you give her that?" she called. There was a silence in which Bo got very impatient.

"She wasn't behaving!" came the response of Hunter. Bo groaned, rolling her eyes. Why had she thought of putting this girl with him? Maybe because he was the only one in this shit hole that she trusted.

"Are you serious?" the girl mumbled to herself, shaking her head and sitting on the edge of Kira's bed.

It didn't take long for the pirate to get out of the shower and saunter in, hair wet and dripping down his neck. "Why did you put her with me anyways?" he asked, rummaging through his drawer for a tank top that he swiftly put on. Bo sighed, getting to her feet.

"You remember New York?" she asked carefully, biting her lip. Hunter froze midway between closing his drawer and turning to her. His jaw muscle twitched and his eyes shifted, hardened.

"New York?" he questioned back, voice hard as rock. Bo nodded. "You mean _New York,_ New York?"

"They said that if we could find someone who could make it we-"

"Why her?" Hunter interrupted, brow twitched. He closed the drawer loudly, walking across the room to his table. Bo sighed like an angered mother. "Why not one of her friends? Or someone fit for the job?"

"No one will suspect her," Bo said calmly. It had been so long since they had talked about _it_ that her mind had to be jogged.

"But she's weak and she's small," Hunter fought back, organizing some papers on the table. "She'll get caught."

"Not if we help her," Bo answered strongly.

"And get killed in the process?"

Bo groaned loudly, pinching the bridge of her nose with her index and thumb, closing her eyes. Hunter could be such a stubborn kid sometimes! "We have a job to do, Hunter," she said, voice rogue. Hunter sighed audibly.

"Yes, and it has to be done properly," he answered, shuffling the papers into the drawer under the table and slamming it shut. "We can't blow this whole thing over because some high school girl can't do the job."

"Oh for fucks sake, Hunter!" Bo exclaimed. "Are you that sexist? No one will _ever_ suspect a girl like her to make it. She's perfect!"

Hunter groaned and looked back at Bo, his eyes dark and sinister. His lips were taunt, jaw clenched and hands in fists. "I disagree," he growled, the sound seeming to come from deep within his chest. "She'll get caught, she'll speak and we'll die."

"Stop being so bloody pessimist," Bo sighed. "It's risky I agree but-"

"Risky!?" Hunter shouted. "What the fuck is wrong with you Bo? We've made it this far without being caught. What is it now? Are you being impatient? Do you want to get this thing over so badly that you picked her?"

"No I-"

"What about one of her boy friends, the ones who look like amateur boxers?" he continued, mindless to Bo's interruptions. "They look quite fit for the job."

"That's the thing, Hunter!" Bo almost yelled. "They are highly suspected. But this little, "weak" girl won't be suspected to do the big step. Use your brain, Hunter."

"Use my brain?" he scoffed, offended. He marched by her, giving her a look that left her blood cold. "I think you should use yours, Bo." With that he walked right out the door and slammed it shut.

* * *

After a righteous breakfast that consisted of bread, bacon and milk, the pirate woman sauntered her way out of the compound and jumped into her jeep. Her back pack was filled with her notebook, plastic veils, a knife, scissors, and a small compatible blow torch; courtesy of the Doc.

Bo liked her little adventures in the jungle on days like these; sunny and cloudless. She liked to drive out far into the jungle, sketch down some plants, write down some notes and then make it down to the Doc's place for some updates on her drugs. She did exactly that, spending the majority of her day sitting in the grass with her notebook in her lap, pencil going at the white paper. She drew the lush plants and greenery of Rook so many times, but it never bored her.

After the morning turned to mid afternoon in a blink, the woman drove down to Doc's and wrote down more notes about the new sampling she had just given him. Most of his testings were done on rats or small rodents, so him and the brunette spent the rest of the afternoon examining them closely, watching for the lethal dosage. Her notebook was filled once more with astray pages, pictures and samples of leaves to try when she sauntered back to her jeep. When the woman looked up to the sky, it was vivid with dusk colors; orange, purple, blue and grey.

She drove back down to the compound, parking her jeep by the entrance and went for the bar.

As usual, with the hard working day behind them, the pirates had crowded the bar. Many were sitting on the stools, but most were standing and walking around, milling by the jukebox or sitting at the round tables. The bartender was busy, even had a couple of pirates doing the serving. Bo found the lounge unoccupied and sat on it, ordering a cold beer and sitting back. She took her notes out and went over them, checking all the reactions and dosage, the remarks Doc made and his conclusions.

Of all people, Bo really liked Doc. He was insane, it was obvious to the eye. However, he was a highly intelligent man with an eye for fauna and flora. He was under estimated, that was obvious, but he never wanted to prove otherwise. He kept to himself and never bathed in the horrors of the island. Bo liked him because he was quiet and intelligent; he was a secret to uncover. Many rumors circled around about how he came to Rook, but he had once told Bo everything, a late night at his diner table. After his two year old daughter, Agnes, tumbled from his tenth story apartment, he came to Rook. He started selling drugs and ended up on the black market. But despite what others would say regarding his drug consumption and implication, he was a good man.

"Bo!"

The brunette looked up from her notes to the bartender. "Yes?"

"Vaas is by the docks!" he yelled over the noise and conversations. "He sent for you!"

Bo grumbled, but stuffed her bag up with her notes and headed out, not before grabbing her well deserved beer.

She found the said pirate lord sitting by the docks, his legs hanging over the deck. He had a joint hanging loosely from his lips and a beer in his hand. Bo set her bag beside her and sat on the wood, legs dangling in the void. She sighed and looked out over the bay, the sun reflecting off the waves and creating sparkles in the water.

"Nice view, isn't, pera?" Vaas purred, his intoxication obvious. Bo nodded.

"Indeed."

"What did you do today?" he continued, taking a hit of his joint. He offered it to the woman, but she politely declined.

"I went to see Doc," she answered.

"Hmm, Doc," Vaas slurred, laughing. "I always thought the guy was insane. Did he tell you what happened to his _hija_?"

"Yes, Vaas, he did." Bo ignored his grumbled laughter and took a swing of her beer. She relished in the coolness it brought to her dry throat.

"Fell out of his fucking apartment," he huffed. Bo nodded apathetically.

"What about you?" Bo asked in return as to not let the pirate lord get on with insulting one of Bo's only friends on the island.

"I killed some people," he sighed, shrugging. "Fed some chica to the _perros_. Drove up to PC, then back for no fucking reason. I filmed two ransom videos. The same old, sugar," he said with a suggestive grin. He waggled his brows at her, leaning to the side as to give her cheek a slight kiss. Bo shivered.

Despite the fact that Bo accepted the pirate king in her bed every night, she hated him. Oh how she _abhorred _him. Just the smell of him; dirt, blood and sweat, made the enmity detectable on her tongue. Her loathing of him was what almost drew her to give him a place among her sheets. She hated the heaviness of him over her, or his hand gripping the roots of her hair, or the warmth, the boiling _heat_ of his body. She despised his voice, so luscious and thick, so seducing and entrancing. She cursed his ability to loo her into this state where her mind was smoke and her body was ash. All he would do was whisper her name and she'd shiver, become literally undone under him. He was a master in every inch of her flesh, every nook of her body, every curve of her muscles. He even came to know her selfishness and her subtle culpability. And what she _hated_ even more was that he had the ability to make her _scream_, make her _beg_ for what he oh so promised to give her. And she loathed herself for giving in every night, for letting herself be seduced by the devil in person.

Yet she needed to seduce the devil, to lure him into her trap so he would be clueless when his possessions would run. She needed to do this. She had a job to do.

**I think you guys'll like the next chapter ;)**


	8. Chapter 7

**Anthracite77: Hahaha, tu devine bien! Merci encore pour le feedback :)**

**XeresMalfoy: Merci! Et tu comprendas tout plus tard. Tu es sur le bon chemin par contre! Continue tes hypotheses!**

**SickMonkey89: Hahaha you make me laugh all the time, bro! Yes, tall hot tattooed. Not a lot of that in this one though :$ But later on yes! Thanks again!**

**ENJOY :D**

Chapter 7: Silver Screen and Wolverine

Vaas awoke to the usual empty bed. He overlooked the messy sheets, the smell of her skin still lingering in the creases of the pillows under his head. The heat literally levitated from the bed, creating intoxicating clouds of sensual odors. Vaas groaned, flipping around on the cot, getting wafts of her body smell; something between freshly picked lavender and an early morning rain. He let his nose bury in the soft pillow, where feelings of the previous night still vibrated off the fabric.

Bo never stayed to see Vaas wake up. Not that it bothered him, but he wondered how she managed to escape his awakenings _every time_. It's like she had a mental alarm clock that permitted her to disappear right before the pirate lord woke up. Vaas cracked an eye and found the girl's pajamas sprawled on the floor, which meant she was already out and about. He looked out the window over the bed and found rays of sunlight piercing the dirty glass. Time to wake up.

The pirate lord dragged his sleepy body out of bed, tumbling around on the wooden floor, his hangover evident with the heavy pounding in his skull. A hand was placed against his forehead, but it didn't deterred the vigorous pain in his brain. He found his trousers, his tank top and his boots nicely folded at the foot of the bed. After having slipped on his usual attire, he sauntered out of the shanty and into the heavy daylight, the hot sun already cooking his tanned skin.

The watch on his wrist signaled early afternoon, which led the pirate king to understand Bo's ability to escape. Despite the fact that Vaas was late in his day's work, he had to catch some breakfast and intoxicate his blood with the usual drugs. Not that Vaas cared about being sober or not, but he enjoyed the feeling of the sticky substance swimming in his blood; it gave him chills of thrilling joy. And Vaas didn't enjoy many things other than torture and sex.

Vaas found what he was looking for in his own building. The coolness of uninhabited quarters greeted him as he entered his little house. In his drawer lay the sticky drug that he so effortlessly stuck in his elbow and induced. He felt the intoxicating liquid swirl up in his veins, he felt the daze behind his half closed lids, the muddle of thoughts growing into one big blob of blackness until it melted into nothingness. The cool feeling under his flesh, like biting teeth snapping at his skin, made shivers run up his coiling spine. The plushness of a mattress made him groan as he felt the nipping fangs continue to nibble on his sanity, the rogue fingers curling around his remaining thoughts, the watchful eyes laughing at his deterring state. The numbing feeling started from his feet, lighting a fire in his toes. A sweet, promising awareness overtook his mind as the numbing climbed up his body.

He waited, lying on his bed, for the high to take him away. For the dope to carry him to the stupor he searched for so ferociously through the nebulous state of his mind.

Open lids. Vision clear as day. Every speck of dust visible through clear green/blue eyes.

Like a wolf, an alpha, he felt and saw everything his pack did. It was like the tendrils in his brain were extended, their arms and hands reaching out for every bit of feeling, of pain, of desperation.

The beast, with teeth sharp as knives, rose from the pile of sheets he rested in. His tongue was stale, needing the metallic taste of blood to adorn it once again. His ears pricked and he found the radio at his waist band. "Bring the new fuckers to PC." His voice, like a growl, resonated into the machine in his hands.

"Cinema, boss?" a voice answered him.

"Si."

* * *

The dirt coated her skin like mold grows on rotting tree logs. His eyes, like glowing diamonds in the dark, scanned her skin, her flesh, the bruises that seemed to take up every inch of her skin. Those irises, like florid fire, burned holes in her skin, in the bruised flesh. His lips that seemed coated in crimson, stretched into a wolfish grin as he admired the trembling of her fingers and the shaking of her entire body.

She sat, eyes wide and fearful, with her wrists duck taped to the wooden chair. Sweat beaded her flesh, luminous in the dim lighting.

And this song, this _fucking _song, kept playing on and on in his head. Or was it in his head? There _was _a radio screeching on a wooden table in the corner. What was it saying?

_You are a cinema. I could watch you forever. Action, thriller, I could watch you forever. _

A shake of his head and Vaas' eyes clicked back to the frightened brunette sitting in front of him. _I could watch you forever._ A grin stretched at his lips. The blood fell from the cut over her brow and dribbled over onto her soft, dirty cheek. _You are a cinema. _Her eyes glistened with gargantuan fear, so great, it breathed off her skin. The pirate king could literally see the fear emanating from her flesh, like evaporating water from a boiling cup. _I could watch you for a lifetime, you're my favorite movie. _His hand reached out. She flinched away, hair caging her face. His fingers cradled the soft curve of her chin and pulled her face up to his. _Stars spell out your name, like in a science-fiction drama._

"Don't you wanna be an actress?" he purred softly. She flinched, eyes watering to the brim. "No?" Vaas cocked his head, eyes falsely intrigued.

_Hope you start undressing, all my dreams and take me under._

"P-please," she cried, tears flowing from her honey colored eyes. Vaas chuckled, playing with the hem of her tank top, teasing the curve of her breasts. She cried harder.

"Every little bitch in American dreams of being an actress," Vaas continued, fingers diving into her shirt. She winced, cry caught in her throat. His eyes snapped up to hers, vicious insanity swimming in those irises. "Of being on that fucking red carpet."

_You are my cinema, a Hollywood treasure._

"Get the camera rolling," he ordered, not even sparing a glance to his companion. He kept his eyes on the girl, whose fear intrigued him, filled his interest to the brink.

The king began by circling his prey, eyes viciously scanning her trembling form. His fingers continued to play with the hem of her top, snapping her bra strap once in a while. He relished in the little cries she gave here and there. ___I could watch you for a lifetime._ "Now, bella," he started, voice low and husky, "you will be a nice little bitch and cooperate, si?" She nodded her head slowly.

"Yes," she mumbled, voice muffled with tears.

"Good, good," the pirate lord chanted. "Felipe, let's get this started."

The said Felipe, a scrawny little fellow, sauntered up to his boss with a camera in his hands. Vaas pointed him around and finally, settling himself behind the young woman, signaled Felipe to start filming.

"Hello, amigos!" Vaas started, loud and playful. "It is I again. I think this is your daughter, si? I made a film with your son earlier on. Anyways, whatever. As I said before; give the money, get back your little motherfuckers. No need to get the police into it all. If ever I find out those shits are involved, this pretty little face," and he cradled Kira's head almost adorably, "won't be called a face no more." He smiled maniacally, laughing like he had just made the most hilarious joke of his life.

He leaned in so his chin rested against her shoulder, where her heavy breathing could be deliciously heard in his ears. "And she will be mine until cash is flowing, alright?" He laughed again and he felt her shiver, the feeling crawling over her flesh. "And look how she just _loves _to be mine."

Vaas had always been one for theatrics.

He leaned to the side and fixed the grossest kiss to her lips, his mouth literally pushing onto hers until she grunted in pain. Once his mouth was off hers, he laughed and looked at the camera. "Wait!" he cheered suddenly. "I have something to show you!"

He reached into his pocket, retrieving a folded piece of paper. His eyes scanned the writing, a wolfish smile on his lips. "See, I don't think you'd mind if she just- poof- vanished, right?" He leaned in, eyes glowing in malicious victory for what he had just found. "I did some research on your 'daughter' and came up with this." A paper was held up to the camera, the writing not visible due to the shitty camera lenses. "Who adopts children from Sweden?" His question was so stupid, so just out there, that it took a moment for Kira to realize.

Her gasp was heard loud, and the grin that followed on Vaas' lips was pure victory. "Ah, I see," he continued, "girls are pretty in Sweden, si?" His eyes found the girl's. They were wide, tears glistening over her irises. He got to his feet with a malignant laugh.

"I thought Africa and China were the countries to adopt from," he said to the camera. "Apparently not. Looks like Sweden don't want their children either." He approached the flabbergasted brunette and relished in the sight of her total disarray. "Cut the camera, Felipe."

Suddenly, he grabbed her arms and ripped off the tape. She was on her feet in seconds, being dragged out of the dark cave by hands so strong they could break her arms in a blink. Tears flowed from her face, dripping to the dirt ground. Vaas' laugh rang loud in the cave, the sound almost like a wolves howl after a good catch. Her grunts and moans of pain resonated behind his maniacal chuckles as the king persisted in shuffling her along.

Vaas dumped her in front of Hunter, a pirate with a good reputation, that Bo had assigned as the girl's babysitter. "Get her the fuck outta here," Vaas spat, sparing one last look at her pitiful form.

"Right away, boss," Hunter responded, plucking the young woman off the floor easily. He swung her body over his shoulder like a potato sack and walked right out of PC.

Vaas didn't even twitch a brow before grabbing another human from the soil and kicking them into the filming room.

This was going to be a good day for Vaas Montenegro.


End file.
